Spitfire
by mysterious intentions
Summary: No one thought that Uraraka would fall for him, no one thought that Bakugou could even fall. (A collection of one-shots; prompts from Kacchako week 2017)
1. Firsts

**Firsts**

x-x-x-x-x-x

Her forearms throbbed, the nerves embedded in her skin searing in pain. She didn't have to look to know that her skin was burned a raw red, the flimsy layer of protection her costume offered now in scorched ashes.

She lowered her crossed arms, gritting her teeth to suppress the scream threatening to rip through her throat.

Horror struck his face; he crushed his hands into trembling fists by his side. He didn't have to feel guilty about hurting her, she knew that the anger and pure _hatred_ loaded into that attack wasn't meant for her. However…

"Katsuki," she called, her voice a breathy rasp, "stop this. This fight is _over_."

Bakugou looked up, meeting her steely brown eyes. His lips pressed into a thin line, he dropped his gaze to the burns scarring her arms before returning back to her eyes.

"Uraraka," he called back, his voice dark, quietly suppressing an animalistic ferocity, "get the _fuck_ out of the way. This fight is between me and that motherfucker."

"Katsuki, get a hold of yourself," Uraraka snapped. She stepped aside to reveal Deku, panting heavily as he struggled with the simple act of standing. Blood dribbled down the side of his head in thin rivulets, his right eye puffy and beginning to blacken. "Deku-kun is in no condition to fight! Anymore and he'll suffer permanent damage that even Recovery girl can't heal. Stop this Katsuki, you _win._ "

"I win?" Bakugou repeated, taking a step forward. "If he's still standing, then he has the intention to fight me. It's not victory until he's crushed, until he's _annihilated_. I know this fucker is always holding out on me. He doesn't think I'm ready, doesn't think that I'm _worthy_ of his full-strength. It pisses me off so goddamn fucking much."

"Katsuki calm down! Deku-kun is not like that, he'd never hide anything from us. Let's just call off the battle and you can do a rematch after he heals," Uraraka admonished. As if on cue, Deku wavered on his feet. Before he crumpled to the floor, Uraraka managed to wrap an arm around his waist.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, watching as Uraraka tenderly hoisted Deku's arm around her shoulder.

"Because you're the fuckin' expert on Deku aren't you? He's your goddamn best friend hm?" Bakugou wiped his mouth, ignoring the smear of blood that stained his gloves. "Come to think of it, why are you putting him _first_? Is he more important to you than me?"

Uraraka flinched at his tone, but held her ground. "Katsuki, this isn't about putting you or Deku-kun first. This is about my desire to protect my friends, even if it means from you."

"Protecting your friends from me?" The fire in his red eyes quivered, his anger teetering to mania. The line between good and evil blurred. "Don't give me that righteous bullshit. I'm the one that's your fuckin' _boyfriend_. If you can't put me above fucking Deku of all people then our relationship is just a hollow word and nothing more than a fucking lie."

"Deku is my best friend!" She screamed, the tension coiling in her heart exploding. "How dare you accuse my feelings as lies? Though looking at you right now, I really don't know what I see in you! All I see is a child with a superiority complex throwing a tantrum!"

Bakugou froze, the snarl on his lips fading to a frown.

Uraraka sharply inhaled, readjusting Deku's weight on her shoulder. "Katsuki…please, I'm not asking for anything difficult. Why can't you for _once_ put something that _I_ want first and let go of this fight?"

"I _can't._ I've already lost way too fucking much to him and I'm not about to lose another—nevermind…I'm so sick of this shit." He shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. "Now you've gotta go and take my girlfriend too, huh?" Bakugou tapered off into a low murmur, then scoffed, more at himself than anyone.

Silence reigned between them; thick and palpable like smoke that hung in the air, refusing to disperse. Bakugou shook his head, his eyes glazed over as he aimlessly stared at a pile of rubble in front of him.

"Uraraka…" he called her name, his voice a rough croak.

"Katsuki, it's not like that. I'm not on anyone's side, I just have to do what's right," Uraraka said softly, a cold sense of dread percolating in her stomach.

"If you don't understand why you have to choose me over Deku, then you don't understand me at all." He turned in a semi-circle, craning his neck back to look over his shoulder. Red met brown in a silent farewell.

Uraraka's heart listlessly pounded, already knowing what Bakugou was about to say.

Bakugou knew the words he was about to say, but that didn't mean he really wanted to say them.

"Let's…end this thing between us. Everyone knew we wouldn't last long anyways. There's no point in this relationship if we can't put each other first."

x-x-x-x-x-x

x-x-x

"Uraraka-san…"

"…."

"Uraraka-san?"

"Oh…sorry, Deku-kun," she tilted her head to see him worriedly watching her. She smiled reassuringly, then turned back to focus on her footsteps as she carried Midoriya to the infirmary. "I zoned out a bit there. You should get some rest, don't try to talk so much."

"Ah, it's okay. Don't worry about me Uraraka-san, I'm fine. But um…are you alright?"

"Me? Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Uraraka chuckled. Heartily. Loudly.

"Because well…erm…Uraraka-san…I'm sorry, I really really didn't mean to cause you and Kacchan to break up," Midoriya blurted out, frowning as he saw her plastered smile crack.

"No no, it's fine," she guaranteed. There it was again, that loud, hearty, (evasive) chuckle. "Besides, it's a good thing! I can focus on more important things like my hero career. There are no distractions now."

He bit his lip, that wasn't true. No one pushed Uraraka to be a stronger hero than Bakugou did. "I know how much you loved him…" Midoriya couldn't help but say.

"I didn't love him," she reaffirmed quickly. Determined. Confident. "How could I love someone who treats my best friend so terribly?"

Midoriya was quiet for a moment, knowing her words were as much truth as they were lie. "Uraraka-san…if Kacchan wants to work on mending our friendship, I'd be open to it. Then maybe you two can get back together?" Midoriya settled on suggesting.

Uraraka shot him a wry, half-smile. He always tried so hard to keep her happy. "Thank you, Deku-kun. But you saw how Bakugou-kun was for yourself. Bakugou-kun isn't going to change, and I'm not going to wait on bated breath for him to grow up."

Midoriya shrugged, but instantly regretted it as a sharp pain shot up his shoulder. "Maybe I just…can't help but think it's sad for something that made you so happy to end like that."

Uraraka sighed. "Deku-kun, you know that was the first time Bakugou-kun called me his girlfriend? How manipulative of him, he's only willing to label it when it's convenient for his argument."

"I-I don't know if I'm overstepping boundaries, or if I'm saying the right things to make you feel better but…" Midoriya rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "I think Kacchan finally established the relationship because he was desperate to keep it. In fact, it seems like he already loved you for much longer."

Midoriya slipped off her back with a yelp, landing with a dull thud against the grass. Battling through the stabbing pain and dried blood caked around his eyes; he looked at his friend in alarm. "Uraraka-san?"

"Ugh…" she groaned, sinking to a crouch and burrowing her face into her knees. "Don't tell me things like that." She sniffed, and when she lifted her head for a fresh breath, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Uraraka wiped her face with her forearm—skin still stinging from blocking Bakugou's blast— and then pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes. "If he really was so desperate…why did he push me away?"

Midoriya didn't say anything. He didn't really have a good answer for her.

If only they could understand that they were already each other's firsts.

x-x-x-x-x-x


	2. Sparks

**Sparks**

x-x-x-x-x-x

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't stupid. He knew what this was. This…this, _ugh,_ he couldn't believe he was acknowledging this shit.

Bakugou was very well acquainted with his familiar friends rage, pride, and hatred—he let them run wild and rampant, ready to trample all Dekus and other little shits that got in his way. But this…this _feeling_ was a whole different monster—like a towering tree looming over a forest, demanding to be acknowledged.

A single phrase endlessly looped in his head: _what the fuck, Katsuki?_

He dragged a hand across his face and groaned—a low, guttural groan that vibrated in the back of his throat. Heaving a huge sigh, he rolled back his shoulders and collapsed onto his bed.

"Holy fuck," he cursed to no one in particular.

Unfortunately for him, someone answered. "Hm? That curse was lacking in your usual murderous intent. Which means…" Kirishima tapped a finger against his chin. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with inspiration, he snapped his fingers and shot Bakugou a wide grin. "You want to talk about your feelings!"

"Fuck no," Bakugou snarled back, leveling his roommate with a glare icy enough to freeze a weak soul's heart.

Kirishima chuckled good-naturedly, returning back to his magazine. "Worth a shot. But hey, if you wanna talk I'm here to listen. The manliest of men need emotions too."

"I don't need any emotions that aren't relevant to winning at everything in the entire world," Bakugou deadpanned.

"While I'm down with that manly resolve, I don't know if that's really possible. Or at least, not anymore," Kirishima said mysteriously, his lips lifting into a playful smirk.

Red eyes narrowed to sharp slits. What did the fucker see?

"What did you fucking see?" Bakugou bit back.

"If I tell you will you answer my question?"

"Don't answer my question with another dumbass question—"

"So do you have a crush on her?"

It was nearly comical to see Bakugou stiffen and sputter like the young teenage boy he actually was. Kirishima coughed, stifling his snicker.

"There's no fucking way," he stated. He was confident that this was a temporary nuisance, like a sickness, an _infection_ that would go away with time.

"Aw what a shame." Kirishima propped his feet up, the ridged heel of his shoes resting on the edge of the table. He swiveled from side to side on the rolling chair. "I ship it. I think you two would make a cute couple. Kacchako? Bakuraka? Which do you prefer?"

"Shut up," Bakugou barked, flipping onto his side to glare at his white walls.

Nonplussed, Kirishima carried on. "Sure her quirk isn't as flashy as yours, but her determination rivals yours and you gotta respect that never-give-up attitude. Oh, and it's a bonus that she's a cutie. _I'd_ be down to go out with her," Kirishima paused, feeling the intensity of a pair of eyes drilling holes in the back of his head and demanding his death. When he whipped his head around, however, Bakugou was facing the wall again, though tension stretched over his taut muscles. Was he like that before?

A little more nervously, he continued, "Err…well anyways, you're a young, hot-blooded man that's been single for his whole life. If you're feeling the sparks of new love I'd say go for it!"

"There were no sparks and there is no new love and we would make a fuckin' terrible couple," he replied in a sentence too calm for the fiery blond.

"Oh really? No sparks? Hmm…then why are you staring angrily at your hand like it dishonored you, your family, and your family's cow?"

"Are you making fun of me? I'm going to kill you."

"Ah, there's the Bakugou I know." Kirishima laughed, watching as Bakugou started slamming his fist repeatedly into the innocent mattress.

God damn, why did Kirishima have to make him think about it even _more?_ "It's not a big deal…" Bakugou grumbled.

"Ohh good. If it's not a big deal why don't you tell me about it? From one man to another, I promise I won't tell a soul," Kirishima grinned, thrusting out a thumbs-up sign. "Is it like how they describe in the movies, you know like, fireworks? Or is it more like electricity passing through your fingertips, that sorta thing?"

Bakugou furrowed his brow. It wasn't really like any of that shit. He opened and closed his hand, flexing his fingers. The soft warmth of her fingers on his sweaty palms lingered, his face warmed as he remembered the light, fluttery feeling brushing over his skin. He remembered the way their eyes had locked; he remembered the way her deep brown eyes had widened as she seemed to realize the same thing he already knew.

He remembered lightly grasping her hand and not hating it. He remembered inwardly cringing as he accepted that he couldn't deny this stupid feeling any longer.

"No…it's not really like that stuff," Bakugou quietly sighed; he couldn't believe he was talking about this shit. "A spark is just an annoying feeling you can't get rid of. No matter how hard I try to kill it, it's like the stupid thing always wants to start a new fire. I hate this goddamn pathetic—hey! Why do you look so happy?!"

Kirishima beamed, looking far too pleased for his own good. "It's just, man, what a great Bakugou-like response. As expected of the manliest man I know. And I get a front-row seat to this love story—wow!"

A pillow slammed into Kirishima's face, he instinctively hardened, the pillow flopping forward.

"Nothing is going to happen!" Bakugou growled, he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It won't with that attitude! Don't worry, as your best, and probably only buddy, I'm here to cheer you on!"

Clutching his head, Bakugou massaged his temples. When the veins throbbing on the side of his read refused to relax, he released a frustrated grunt. "Gimmie that shit," he ordered, leaning over the side of the bed to snatch up the pillow he had thrown at Kirishima.

Amusement danced in Kirishima's eyes, it wasn't like Kirishima particularly enjoyed seeing Bakugou suffer (okay, he enjoyed it a _little_ ). It was just nice that his hotheaded friend, a man so keen on skipping his youth and racing to be number one, could be a normal hormonal boy too.

Kirishima clasped his hands behind his head and watched as Bakugou shoved the pillow over his bristly blond hair, the thick down feathers muffling his groans. If this was what happened from a spark, Kirishima wondered what explosion would occur once Bakugou was in _love._

x-x-x-x-x-x


	3. Cloud 9

**Cloud 9**

x-x-x-x-x-x

* * *

"Have you _really_ been eating pineapple?" Uraraka asked—half teasingly, half serious— as she swigged water from a bottle.

"Yes…" Bakugou groused, turning away from her to rummage for his pants on the floor.

Uraraka chugged half the bottle, pulled it out with a pop, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She hummed, low and contemplative.

"I don't know…that tasted like dried-up-gym-sock-sweat after they're left under the bed for a few days. Well, with a bit of a salty aftertaste." She scrunched up her nose before flopping back onto his bed, stretching spread eagle and forcing him to take the desk.

"Stop exaggerating," Bakugou grumbled, dropping to his chair and swiveling away from her. There was no way he tasted that bad, right? He could feel her mischievous eyes on him as he fumbled with looping his belt back into place. He narrowed his eyes; for some reason she took a twisted delight in making him talk about awkward shit.

"Yes. I ate the whole fuckin' goddamn pineapple and now my tongue feels all furry. If it didn't work then that myth is bullshit."

Uraraka giggled, curling onto her side and gazing at him with bright brown eyes. "I know I know, I just wanted to see if I could make your blush reach the tip of your ears."

"You're having too much fun," Bakugou muttered, though it came out more as a complaint than an accusation. They stared at each other a little longer— a faint smile on Uraraka's face and a deadpan glare on Bakugou's.

Suddenly, Bakugou soundlessly spun around on his chair, faced the desk, and slipped on a pair of glasses.

"Whaaat!" Uraraka groaned, "Back to studying already?! Your girlfriend is in her underwear, in your bed, and you rather look at a calculus textbook?!"

"Hm," Bakugou intoned, though he did crane his neck back to look at her. She pouted, puffing out her red cheeks. His eyes dipped lower and shamelessly lingered on her breasts. True, considering his stamina he could probably go again—

In one swift motion, she yanked his comforter over her body and snuggled it up to her chin. "Too late! You made your choice."

"Hmph," Bakugou intoned again, feeling a little more than disgruntled as he turned back to his book. "Weren't you the one that wanted to study together? You're barely able to maintain average when it comes to your grades."

"So rude!" She exclaimed, knowing her, she was childishly sticking his tongue out at him too. "Why do you even need to study, Mr. Salutatorian?"

"It's the end of our last semester, and I sure as hell ain't losing my spot to that four-eyes nerdy president. It already fuckin' sucks to compete for second place."

Uraraka watched as Bakugou pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, finding it ironic that he referred to Iida as a 'four-eyed nerd.' Sighing, she rolled up into a sitting position, tousling her hair and shedding brown strands all over his sheets.

"Alright, alright do your best, I have faith in you. Either way, you're always first place to me," she said casually, but Bakugou startled, bringing a hand to his mouth to conceal his warming face. Even now, he couldn't help but sputter into a flustered mess when she said weird sappy shit.

"And what are you going to do?" He quickly asked.

"I'll study too. You're making me feel guilty," she glanced around his room, "Shirt?"

Bakugou shook his head. "Too hot for one."

"Hmm…good." Uraraka licked her lips and leaned towards him, eyes lighting up as she practically drooled at his ripped muscles and toned abdomen. Pft, what a hypocrite. He shifted under her gaze and huffed.

Uraraka laughed, causing him to blush even darker. "I meant for me! Where's my favorite shirt?"

"In the Uraraka drawer," he mumbled.

"Oh really?" She hopped onto her feet and bounded towards said drawer, digging past a spare Uravity uniform, a bag of toiletries, and what suspiciously resembled a half-eaten cookie before finding her target.

"Ah ha!" She happily shoved a black t-shirt, complete with a raging skull slapped across the center, over her head. The shirt swathed her entirely, the hem resting just a little above her knee. Uraraka sniffed the fabric, inhaling the scent of morning dew and rubbing the surprisingly soft material in her fingertips. "Ohh, you washed it too? That's so sweet of you."

"What the hell? It ain't sweet, it's fucking normal to do simple chores," he swatted her off, trying not to look at her parading around in his clothing and distracting him from his homework. Eventually, she sat back down on his bed, plopping open a huge textbook and shuffling through the pages.

Without looking up, she replied, "You know, if we only looked at your actions and put like, a mute button on your curse words and angry language, you're a really good boyfriend," she slid to laying flat on her stomach, kicking her legs back and forth in the air, "even though you pretend to forget all the anniversaries and holidays, when I pull out my gift you have one prepared too. Then there's that time you stuck around me when I was sick for a week, you were so _naggy_ but your soups were great. Oh! And who could forget that time you bought me tampons? Totally unexpected, right?"

It was her favorite phrase to say to him, more to tease him than anything, but she was right. Never in a million years did he think he had the capacity to shape his life with someone else's.

He tapped the eraser of his pencil against the textbook, the dull thuds doing nothing to keep him focused on school instead of tracking his girlfriend's movements.

When did she become so integrated in his life? When did sharing his belongings with her—and on a scale of 1 to 10, Bakugou Katsuki was at a -11 when it came to sharing— become like second nature? When did being in Uraraka Ochako's presence give him more peace than being alone?

He didn't know _when_ these unexpected things happened, all he knew was that they…happened. The little box nestled in his pocket, heavy with the weight of unspoken words, further served to remind him.

She rolled onto her back, looking at him from upside-down. "Hmm…Katsuki you're being quiet. You nervous about something?"

"I'm not nervous about shit," he fired back instantly, hunching forward over his desk. The little velvet box rubbed against his thigh.

"If you say so," she said, letting the subject drop.

With Uraraka quiet, Bakugou returned back to his homework, the only sound between them the scritch-scratch of his pencil on paper. By the time he reached question #5, however, he heard the soft, even sounds of snoring. Already?! Did Uraraka complete a single problem? Or did she lug out her textbook just to use as a pillow?

"Oi," he nudged her with his toe, "stop sleeping."

"Mrmph."

Sighing, Bakugou stood up and leaned over her. "Get some shit done before taking a nap. And at least brush your teeth or you'll get cavities from those bacteria fucks," he warned, shaking her shoulder.

"Naggy…" she said under her breath. She didn't budge. Growling, Bakugou moved a little closer. Just as he was about to shake her shoulder again, her arm shot out and dragged him by the wrist into bed.

"Hey!" Bakugou yelped, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. "You made me fall on the sharp corner of your textbook you ass!"

"Oops…sorry, heh," she smiled sheepishly, moving her hand from his wrist to the spiky tufts of blond hair.

"I'm fine, I ain't a pussy about a lil pain," he insisted, though he didn't jerk his head away from her touch. Her hand then traveled down to encircle his waist, pulling him towards her as she scooted closer to him. Her hot breath fanned across his bare skin as she nuzzled her forehead against his chest.

"Katsuki…I'm happy, you know that right?"

Bakugou froze, his body going rigid. Uraraka noticed, gently massaging his back with the pads of four fingers.

"You're rude, vulgar, and to be honest, batshit crazy, but I keep coming back to the same conclusion."

Tentatively, Bakugou lifted his arm to wrap around her torso, snuggling her closer and resting his chin atop her head.

"The raging berserker, the salutatorian four-eyes nerd, the tsundere, all of it. I can't exactly pinpoint what it is about you that makes me happy. We've had a lot of fights and a super complicated journey, so it's almost confusing why this feeling seems to be growing stronger instead of fading. But that's how it is, I dunno, maybe I'm batshit crazy too," her laughter tickled like wisps of grass, prickling goosebumps across his skin, "but…I do know that I'm happy, happy and floating in cloud 9 because I'm in love with you."

Bakugou said nothing. Absolutely nothing for such a long time that Uraraka began to feel embarrassed, had it all been too much for him? When his warmth pulled away and he slipped out of her grasp, cold anxiety panged in her stomach.

"What? Back to studying already? Boo, I thought that I bought us a little time for cuddling," she joked, keeping her voice steady even as her lip trembled. She kept her eyes downcast, staring at the wrinkled sheets Bakugou had left behind.

From her peripheral vision, she could see that Bakugou was still hovering near the bed. What was he doing?

Silence lingered in the room, a strange, heavy sort of silence very unlike the comfortable ones they have grown accustomed to. Something was off. Uraraka bit her lip.

"Ochako," he said her name with a softness that shouldn't have been possible for Bakugou Katsuki. Warmly, and tapering off into an uncharacteristic bashfulness that Uraraka couldn't help but widen her eyes.

"Hm?"

Again, silence lingered, but this time she knew she simply had to wait.

"Well?" He finally asked.

"Well what?" She flipped onto her side to look at him. "What are you talking about—ohmygodwhatisthat." Both of her hands flew to cover her mouth, her heart pounding like a jackhammer as her brain processed the huge, shining diamond nestled on a silver band.

"Is that…is that a…oh my god. That thing is freakin' _huge._ You seriously didn't need to do that I would have been fine with one of those plastic rings you get from gachapon. How do you have the money for that?!" Her eyes flickered from the glittering ring to Bakugou awkwardly poised on one knee, face burning scarlet and eyes glued to the floor. Uraraka pinched both of her cheeks, twisting them for good measure. "Wait…am I dreaming? Is this real? Are you doing what it looks like you're doing? Are you _proposing_?"

"Yes, this is a fucking ring. No, I'm not going to offer you a shitty cheap ass ring. I worked a lot of jobs, being the consistently highest ranked hero earns you decent cash. No, you're not dreaming. Yes, this is real. And…" he peered at Uraraka through his eyelashes, struggling to spit out his answer, "can't you see for yourself?"

Uraraka's breath caught. The words in her throat blanking as her thoughts ran a mile a minute. Time melted away, and the world fizzled into an empty white space of him, and her. Her heart thumped against her rib cage, blood rushed to her cheeks, and the air felt charged with electricity and oh, she was flying?

Sometime while her thoughts collided with each other, Uraraka found herself floating, spinning in circles as she clutched onto her face. It started with a tear, one tear she didn't know she was holding back that cascaded down her face. Then laughter, loud, unfiltered laughter that bubbled out of her throat and rang throughout Bakugou's compact room.

She remembered that she was still clad in his black t-shirt, and she crossed her arms to clutch onto his fabric. This was his, and she was his, and he was hers, and it was simple yet kind of complicated but the very thought of it made her sparkle like a giddy schoolgirl.

"Are you going to answer me or what?!" Bakugou barked, still down on one knee and looking very much like a cute, uncomfortable mess.

Uraraka slowly floated down, grinning at Bakugou through her tears. "Hmm…I don't know, can't you see for yourself?" She teased cheekily.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? All I see is that you're crying and laughing which is kind of fucked up when I'm trying to do this proposal shit, what the fuck am I supposed to think?"

"An angry Katsuki is an embarrassed Katsuki," she sing-songed.

"Uraraka I swear…"

He stopped talking as Uraraka inched towards him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace and burrowing against his neck.

"I love you. So. Much," she declared, soft lips brushing against sensitive skin and her words vibrating through his ears.

She pulled away to press her forehead against his. Her eyes were closed as she inhaled his scent, their breaths intermingling as one. She could feel his rapt attention on her; she smiled. This…this was more than Cloud 9. This was Cloud 9 being stretched across the entire span of her life.

"Yes."

* * *

x-x-x-x-x

A/N: To be honest, the naturalness in writing their interactions made this one my personal favorite. Despite the rather apparent differences in personality, I think that Uraraka and Bakugou have potential for a lasting relationship filled with teasing and pushing each other outside their comfort zones.

Thank you Quinn for your kind words and support! :)


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